


Five Times You Tell Ryan "I Love You"

by gandalfthesassy



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Cockbites, FAHC, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, GTA V AU, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 08:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3112586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gandalfthesassy/pseuds/gandalfthesassy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...and one time he tells you. Gender-neutral reader.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times You Tell Ryan "I Love You"

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired in part by bilvee's Fake AH Crew AU. (aka shout-outs to asexual!Ray and Jack using 'they/them' pronouns and probably other stuff I don't remember it was mostly osmosis or whatever) Also inspired by some Tumblr post that's like "there's many ways that people say 'I love you'" and I don't remember where it is but I remember seeing it so I'm not crazy.

You've got an SD card hidden in a secret jacket pocket. Your arms are crossed over your chest as you shudder. In one hand, you're holding your last remaining magazine for your favorite handgun, nicknamed Harley.

"Come out of there, Viper!" Miles taunts you, leaning against the other side of the bar counter. Around you lies broken glass, every container of booze shattered in your duel with your former boss and his lackey. One piece has slit your thigh, but that's the least of your worries.

"Yeah, let us put ya down the easy way," Burnie drawls, losing his fake accent in the silence of the deserted bar. "Stop making us hunt for you in every single booze joint in Los Santos."

 _Fuck that_ , you tell yourself. But you've cornered yourself and run out of options, so the hunt may be over for them.

"What if I gave you the card?" you attempt a bargain to buy yourself time to plan an escape, if you've even got one at this point.

"We can shoot you and get it anyway," Burnie blows a hole in your deal.

"If you get off scot-free, you aren't exactly a silent witness," Miles agrees. "You know too much, Viper. We're gonna hafta put you down any way we can."

You hear something fall over on the other side of the room. Burnie and Miles attempt to say "Oh shit" but both of them receive blow after blow as you curl up, gun still in your hand. You see blood trickle down from their unconscious bodies while footsteps startle you into an active aim position.

Around the bar corner comes a tall man with long ashy blond hair, removing a black skull mask. You point the gun right at his forehead, but he laughs. Oh, you are so fucked. You don't even know this guy. His face is smeared with war paint and he's fucking laughing at your stupid ass on the ground. Not exactly what you expected from an executioner.

"I know, the guy who just saved your ass always poses the biggest threat. Especially considering I took care of two people who I also hate. You know the saying, the enemy of my enemy--"

"Isn't always my friend," you roll your eyes. "Clearly you've never learned the outcome of the Cold War."

"Is that true? I kinda lived it."

You stop. "Russian?" He nods. "I'm part Italian. I guess I've gotten used to mafia jokes."

"No kidding."

Either he's trying to make you let your guard down, or he doesn't want to kill you. "Are you one of the Fake AH guys?"

"Yeah, but most people know me by the mask." He holds up the object with one hand.

"Oh fuck, you're Haywood," you lower the gun. You figure that if a cold killer like him wanted you dead, he wouldn't waste time getting to know you.

"Guilty. I'm guessing you're Viper. You're a Cockbite, right?"

You nod, ashamed. In a fit of anger, you tear off the incriminating biker jacket and rip open the pocket with the card. "I'm not a fuckin Cockbite anymore." You hold up the card. "Soon as I take this shit to the head of police, Luna is going the fuck down."

He kneels next to you. "You're a hacker?"

"I know html and how to recover incriminating info. I call it 'looking shit up'. I'm better with bikes and cars."

"Well, Viper, if you've got dirt against a Cockbite, Fake AH wants it. I'm guessing that you're not gonna--"

"What will you offer me?"

He grins. "You don't waste time. Everything we've heard is true."

"How much do you guys know?" 

"Enough to know that you need protection and security. We can give you both, especially if you're on the Cockbite black list. Then again, we don't just hand out 'get out of jail free' cards..."

Your eyes dart to the SD card, then to Haywood. "I'll throw in one more thing. I can offer my services as a mechanic and researcher. I'll be a secretary, fixer, whatever you guys need."

"Done." You shake hands, feeling yours almost crack to pieces in his giant one. You hand him the SD card and get to your feet.

"You can come crash at my place tonight. In the future, we'll get you a place of your own."

" **Be careful** ," you urge him as soon as you're outside. He scoffs.

"Believe me, Viper," he assures you, "if anyone finds us this time of night, they'll find themselves dead."

~~~

"What're you doing?" Ryan practically screams. You whip over your shoulder, startled. You move your goggles to the top of your head. "You're wrecking my car!"

"Actually, I'm just changing the tire," you explain as he rushes over. "It's about ten minutes from being drivable."

"Dude, you have a giant-ass wrench with a blowtorch on the end."

"And you notice that the blowtorch isn't on?" you point to the cable to the torch's gas tank. "It's not even plugged in."

"Oh." He bites his lip and mutters something. "Sorry."

"It's cool. The way I fix stuff looks more like I'm trying to break it. Takes people a while before they accept my methods." You go back to work, assuming Ryan has left before you finish.

When you at last complete repairs, you set down your tool and say, "Ta-da!" Ryan snorts. You turn to him. "Jesus, you're still here?"

"Well, yeah. Actually, Geoff came in and wanted to ask you something, but I told him you were busy."

"Is it important?"

"I can't fucking tell with him. Him and Michael are really intense when it comes to business."

"I imagine it's for a good reason," you toss him the keys. He heads for the driver's side as you open the garage door. "Make sure Gavin doesn't wreck this again. If I have to work overtime fixing that prick's handiwork again, I'm going back to the Cockbites."

"Like hell you are."

"Yeah, alright," you digress. "But the thought remains!" Ryan closes his door and you start towards the door to the meeting room as the engine rumbles to life. He pauses before rolling down the window.

"You know, we've never been formally introduced. I'm James Ryan Haywood, but you can call me Ryan."

You stop and turn to him, calling out your name over the roar of the engine.

"Cool name," he smiles and puts on his mask.

" **Drive safe** , Ryan!"

He rolls up his window, giving you a thumbs up, and drives away. You press a button on your garage remote. The door rattles closed as you make your way to Geoff's office.

~~~

"Fixit's such a knobby name," Gavin insists for the fourth time. "You need to give us code names for the heist."

"That's pretty fucking insensitive, Gavin, given (y/n)'s past," Ryan speaks up from across the room, arms folded. He looks ready to punch someone, but that's normal so you ignore the anxiety in your gut.

"Yeah, I go by Fixit because my real name's still in the Cockbite blacklist," you explain. "I'm not careless enough to use my name." You ignore Gavin's partially dropped jaw and join Ryan at his post by the window. " **Got you coffee**." You hold out a cup. “Paid in cash.”

He takes it, sipping and finding surprise in the accuracy of the order. "You never get me coffee," he suddenly realizes.

You stammer and tell him, "I figured you could use some."

"Thanks," he gives you one of his rare kind smiles, the sort reserved for Ray and people who did nice things for him. "I couldn't sleep."

"What's up?"

"Ray has a girlfriend."

You frown and drape an arm over his shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"Well, he's ace as hell, so let's see how long that lasts," he remarks bitterly.

"You have no faith in women, do you?"

"Some, I don't."

You watch him sip from the cup again as you hear a murmur from behind you. Jack and Geoff have entered, completing the Gents in tandem with the Lads.

"Your real name is (y/n), isn't it?"

"I told you two months ago."

"I like the name. It suits you." You blush, God forbid, and glance at the other five. You figure that it's time to start the meeting.

"What's up?" Ryan wonders, concern dashing across his face.

"Heist time," you tell him with mock enthusiasm. You're ready for your plan to get torn apart, but you swallow your fear and pull down your map of Los Santos.

The Gents seem impressed with your plan, as do Ray and Michael, the last one being a bit of a surprise. But of course Gavin has some asinine comment. You brace yourself for impact.

"Wouldn't it be easier to send you in, Fixit, than to create this bloody big diversion?"

"So you want to risk her/his/their fucking life for a fucking convenience store?" Ryan demands, moving from his spot to grip Gavin's shirt. Michael steps forward protectively.

"Jesus, Ryan!" Jack cries for the millionth time that week alone.

"Nobody's risking anybody!" Ray declares, as if the answer is obvious. "Especially Fixit."

"Haywood, put Free down," you coax Ryan's hands away from Gavin's shirt. "I would be willing to go out there and distract the cops."

"No," Ryan shakes his head. "Either we make the diversion or Fixit doesn't get a heist."

“Fine,” Gavin consents.

“So, code names are middle names this time,” you remind everyone. “Geoff is Lazer. Gavin’s David. Jack, Shannon. If that’s okay with you, that is. I know you’re not a big fan of traditionally female names.”

Jack shrugs their shoulders. “It’s a code name, it’s alright.”

“Cool, alright. Ray, I liked your The Artist Formerly Known as Ray thing, but let’s shorten it to TAFKAR.” Ray shoots you a thumbs up. “Ryan...James, I guess.” He nods. Did he just smile at you? Huh. "Alright. Let's start this shit."

~~~

You know something's up when no one is in the office by 10am. You reach for your burner phone and dial Geoff's number. The automated "we're sorry" message makes you sigh quietly and hang up. _Where the fuck are they?_ Did they go on a midnight heist and not invite you? Honestly, you're more annoyed that you weren't invited than the fact that they aren't here.

When you turn on your computer, you receive an email from an unknown source.

"To: Viper (fixitwell@fakeah.com)

From: (unknown)

Subject: Come and get it

Dear (y/n),

We regret to inform you that your normal employers have been detained. The cause of this is nothing more than a debt that you have failed to repay. If you're not sure which debt we're referring to, think back to several months ago when you terminated your employment and absconded with a memory card of incriminating photos of Miles Luna. This somehow fell into the hands of the Fake AH Crew. Given that your departure coincides almost exactly with the defeat of the Cockbites at the Los Santos Golf Club, we know that you did it.

Unless you can give us information on the whereabouts of your headquarters, we will be forced to take the lives of three of the six of your supposed companions. You can choose which ones only if you respond.

Please do not reply to this email. Send any genuine responses or snarky comebacks to secretemail3465@gmail.com."

 _Fucking Cockbites_ , you think to yourself, opening your drawer. Instead of reaching for your gun, you pull out a memory card with an old virus on it. Upon inserting it into your computer, you set to work making it more contagious. You've installed firewalls and virus-detection programs on the two main FAHC computers. but you never bothered to do the same on the Cockbites server. Not even Ellis can fix this virus.

Only an hour after opening the email, you send a reply to the given gmail account and grab your burner phone. "Hello, Cockbites? Viper here. I got dirt on Ramsey, Pattillo, and Narvaez. Did you get my email?"

"We just did. I knew you would turn on these fuckers," Burnie declares with the utmost confidence. "Bring the card to our old location and we'll give you the Gents and the Lads."

"Sounds like a fair deal, Burns. See you then." You elect to take the van, knowing that you'll need the space to get all six.

Half an hour later, you give Miles a smug smile as you hand Barbara the card.

"Alright, Luna," Burnie nods. "Let the dogs out. And you can stop staring at (y/n) like you're gonna kill her/him/them. You're off the black list, Viper."

"But I'm not exactly on good terms with all of the Cockbites," you remark on Miles' angry stare as he presses a button to open the door. Five of them walk out, covered in welts and bloodied scars.

"Ah, don't worry. Do a few more tasks for us, and you'll be good as gold. Let's plug this in, shall we?" he goes to the side and insert the card into a slot in a laptop.

"Wait a sec, where's Haywood?"

"Oh, we had to put him in a separate cell. Kept talking about wanting to kill us. Knowing him, he'd actually do it."

You gotta be kidding me. You fume, clenching your jaw. "So you're not giving me Haywood?"

"So what? He's just one of your gang. You're practically a member as it is." He starts up the machine and waits for it to load. "So how do I download the dirt?"

"It'll give you a message when you sign in. Click 'yes' to accept the information."

He does so, but he frowns. "What the fuck?" Barb joins him, as does Miles.

"Viper, what the fuck is this?" she wonders.

"What's what?"

Burnie shakes his head, perplexed. "I just got a message that says, 'Fuck you, Burnie, you cockless piece of shit' and the two options are 'I know' or 'Fuck you too'. And now I can't move my mouse."

"I'd pick 'Fuck you too'. Either way," you smile, hand going for your handgun, "you've just spread a virus to the entire Cockbite network. None of the information I've given you on the Fake AH Crew or the Slow Mo Girls will be accessible until you have the antidote to the virus."

"There's an antidote?"

"Yep. And the fact that you've let five of the six go makes me think that you don't really deserve it."

Burnie thrusts the laptop into Barb's hands and walks towards you. "Give me the fucking antidote, or I'll kill you."

"When did 'us' change to 'me'? When did you think only of your own safety and not the safety of the network?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Burnie grips your shirt with white knuckles. Despite the pure hatred in his eyes, you've never felt more in charge. "You're going to give me that information, or I'll tell all your little friends why we used to call you Viper!"

"Considering the address line of the email you sent, you still call me Viper. You gotta let bygones be bygones somtimes, Burns."

Suddenly, a door slams open from the other side of the room. Gavin shrieks and jumped into Geoff's arms. Luckily Geoff catches him, but not before almost shitting himself.

Gustavo Sorola keeps Ryan in a chokehold, a gun pressed to the taller man's temple. "Should I do it, Burnie?" he asks, expecting an affirmative answer.

"Only if this piece of shit will give us the antidote," the bossman spits at you.

Faster than all the good guys in your favorite Westerns, you unholster your gun and fire two bullets, one to remove the gun from Sorola's hand, and the other to startle his arm away from Ryan's neck. Gus cries out in agony and stumbles backwards. Miles goes for his gun, as does Burnie. Ryan pounces on Miles and Michael punches Burnie across the face. Miles flails around with Ryan on his back but quickly falls to the ground from the weight. Meanwhile, Michael twists Burnie's arm around while Gavin and Jack hold him on the ground. Barb makes for the door, but you wrap your arm around her neck and drag her back in.

The generator outside powers down. The lights dim to emergency levels and all of the doors unlock with a loud clunk. "Abandon ship," you signal the Fake AH Crew and shove Barb aside, making for the door. Everyone follows suit, going out before you.

Unheard to you, Burnie unholsters his gun and cocks it, pointing it at your feet.

"(y/n), look out!"

Ryan's suddenly back inside, shooting the gun out of Burnie's hand. The bossman yells and grabs his hand. Ryan pulls you out with him and slams the door, pulling off his mask.

"Jesus, are you trying to get yourself killed?" You start to respond, but he embraces you. "God, (y/n), I'm so glad they didn't get you."

You attempt to hug back, but he's got you in such a tight hold that your arms start to go numb. "Part of the job," you grit your teeth from the discomfort and tell him politely, not really sure how to tell him to let you the fuck go.

"Aw," Ray grins from a few feet away. "You nerds."

"Shut up, Junior," you snark, using your favorite nickname for him. Ryan releases you, suddenly self-conscious, and puts the mask back on. Somehow the others have noticed neither you nor Ryan blushing profusely.

"Question," Ray continues babbling. "Was there really an antidote?"

"Yeah. I'd only use it if it accidentally infected our systems," you affirm. "But I've installed specific shit on our computers that won't let it hurt us." 

"Let's get back to base," Jack suggests, coming up to you. "Thanks a million, Fixit. We owe you so many fuckin' drinks." He bumps your fist with his and shoots you a lopsided grin.

"Fuck yeah, there's an idea," Geoff agrees and rushes over. "Let's get some drinks."

"Yeah, great idea," Michael rolls his eyes, folding his arms. "Go out to a bar right after we're on red alert with the Cockbites? Perfect idea."

"But Michael, my boi," Gavin whines, "we haven't gotten drunk in weeks."

"Yeah, that's because we've fucked up a ton of heists."

"You know, when Fixit plans heists," Jack brings up, "we don't fail."

"Damn right," Geoff agrees again. "That's because Fixit knows us like the back of his/her/their hand. Whaddya think, dude? Drinks on us?"

You glance at masked Ryan for a moment and nod. "Drinks on all of you." The others cheer and pile into your van. Ryan makes his way to follow them but you grab his shoulder.

"Mask up," you request quietly. He obliges after making sure all of the others are piled in and unaware. "You saved my ass in there, Haywood. Thank you."

"Dude, you saved all of our asses with a fucking SD card," he points out.

"Well, I did that, and I gave Ellis a hell of a job for the next few weeks." He grins. "Ryan, **you're amazing**."

He looks down at the pavement, genuinely embarrassed. "I'm not that amazing."

"You saved my life."

"I always save your life."

"No way. I save your ass when you start to go berserk with killing. This time, you actually stopped me from getting hurt. Seriously, Haywood. Thank you."

You press an affectionate kiss to his cheek and head for the driver's side, wondering why the fuck you did that. Ryan follows eventually, having replaced the mask over his face.

You can't help thinking about how red his face must look under his facade.

~~~

He's trembling in your arms. You know he would be mortified if anyone else saw him crying. But despite your prior reputation, you wouldn't tell a soul. The only words that spill from his lips are "roosters" and "Barbara". You want so badly to make sense of what happened, but the sirens whooping and police chatting from across the parking lot scare you into awe. Nine dead, one survivor. And your best friend in the world is no killer, not this time.

"(y/n)," he manages after the detective takes his statement and the cars drive off one by one. "(y/n)."

"Yeah, Ryan? You alright?"

A phrase passes across his tongue but he replaces it. "Better, now that you're here."

You smile sadly. "Come on, I'll take you home." You open the passenger door for him and get in the other side, riding in silence most of the way home. Daylight shines down through your sun roof, but Ryan continues to nod his head in exhaustion. "Don't worry. **You'll be okay**. I'll make sure you are."

"Thanks."

"No problem." Another silence follows, not in the least bit awkward, just exhausted.

"You know, I kept thinking of you. I would be in a room and I'd wonder what you'd do if you were in my shoes. I was running away, and I kept thinking you'd appear out of nowhere and kick her ass."

You laugh. "I'm not much of a fighter." In your peripheral vision, you feel him stare at you in disagreement.

"Dude, you smashed a bottle over Michael's head when he tried to fuck you up."

"I could've killed him."

"Yeah, I know." You glance at him. He watches you in--is that admiration? You're just a mechanic with some knowledge of computers. No way a cold-blooded killer would actually like you beyond your availability. "But I know you. You may hate everyone, but you don't hate being employed."

"I don't hate you," you suddenly add.

"That's probably a good thing." You share a moment of sameness. The car pulls into the parking lot of the apartment complex. Ryan unbuckles his seatbelt and starts to get out.

" **I'll wait in here until you get in the house** ," you report after him.

"You don't have to do that--"

"Ryan." Using his real name stops him in his tracks. You say in your head, I actually give a shit, you idiot, just let me have this. "We can't risk losing the best killer in San Andreas."

"Actually just Los Santos, but thanks."

"Jesus Christ, Ryan, let me compliment you," you groan. "Either that, or get the fuck inside."

"Alright, alright," he throws up his hands. "See you tomorrow." You stay where you are as he walks to his door and enters, throwing you a thankful wave before disappearing. You remain for a few moments before restarting the ignition and driving away.

You have that funny feeling in the pit of your stomach, the one that isn't like what you got when you flipped through one of Michael's Playboys, and it isn't like what you'd felt in every near-death moment in a heist, both with the Cockbites and the Fake AH Crew.

Actually, it's the exact feeling that you had the moment you laid eyes on Haywood. It's not fate or any of that bullshit, but you wonder when that feeling developed into full-on attraction.

You've got no fucking clue. And if you manage to keep yourself in check, neither will he.

~~~

You're staying late in the crew office. You decide against finishing the new crew logo in favor of not passing out at your work station. After shutting off your computer, you check the clock with bleary eyes. 3:46am. Fuck. No way you're getting up for work tomorrow.

Unsure of what else to do, you call your best friend. "Hey, dude. I'm gonna head home. You need me to grab anything?"

"Whoa whoa whoa."

"What?" You lean back in your chair, rubbing an eye.

"You're in no condition to drive," Ryan insists. "You've been at work since eight this morning without a break. You're not driving."

"I'll be fine, I'm good on only a few hours of sleep."

"Just stay there, get your shit, and I'll drive over. You can get your car in the morning." You mumble a sleepy 'thank you' and hang up. As you scrape together your valuables, you wonder why he sounded so eager and awake when he picked up.

Your phone buzzes. You unlock it and spot a message. _Let's go._

You step out into the cold Austin night. When your eyes adjust to the low lighting from Ryan's car interior, he walks over and slings one of your arms over his shoulders. You take note that he's not wearing any war paint or makeup of any kind. Not only that, he's just got cargo pants and a tank top on. _It's fucking freezing, what's wrong with him?_

"I'm not a wounded soldier," you mutter indignantly. "I don't need a hero."

"Ah, shut up," he chides gently. "You've saved my ass hundreds of times. I'm returning the favor."

"I never carried you," you realize as you flop into your seat. He climbs in and starts the engine.

"Metaphorically," he shrugs, not seeming like he wants to talk further. You nod in agreement, leaning your cheek against the cool window. You dance in and out of awakeness while the streetlights fly by. It seems like only moments before the car slows to a crawl and Ryan gets out, rounding the back to help you out.

"Dude, I don't need you to carry me--" you try to tell him, but suddenly you're slung over both of his arms and you hug his neck for dear life. "What the fuck," you gasp and he actually giggles. "Great to know my fear is a cause for amusement."

"It's not just your fear," he jokes, carrying you to your door.

"Did you get out of bed just to help me? Were you sleeping?"

"I couldn't resist."

"So you were asleep."

"Well, not anymore."

"Put me down, you son of a bitch."

"No fucking way. You're practically passing out as it is."

"Well, if I'm gonna pass out, you might as well tell me something you wouldn't normally tell me if I would remember it."

" **I love you**."

It's barely a whisper, and you're not even sure he's said it until your brain does an instant replay of his lips.

"You what me?" you reply. His face flushes redder than his normal paint as he finally reaches your door. "James Ryan Haywood, if you are in love with me, you better fucking tell me instead of pretending to be a stone-faced jerkoff."

"A stone-faced jerkoff," he repeats. You grumble and pout. "(y/n), I am so glad you're sleepy. You come up with way better insults."

"Shut up and kiss me," you grab the back of his head and meet his lips with yours, fingers gripping his long hair with half-awake passion.

"God, you are sleepy," he mumbles against your lips and laughs breathlessly. You've caught him feeling vulnerable before, but now you're the cause. "Fully awake (y/n) would never tell me that."

"Well, ask (y/n) in the morning if his/her/their feelings are the same."

"I'm planning on it." Ryan gently sets your feet on the ground and gives you a lingering kiss.

"Do you wanna come in and..." You trail off, too tired to form the words, and giggle. He shakes his head and helps you unlock the door.

"You are as good as drunk, Fixit. If I were to come in, nothing would happen."

"That's okay. And I know you're not much of a cuddler, but I feel safer with you around," you confess, lightly tracing his cheek scar.

"Funny, I feel the same about you."

"What, the great Ryan Haywood feels safe when a fucking mechanic protects him?" He pulls you into a chaste kiss in retort. "Okay, you make a good point." He smiles, baring his teeth by accident, and walks you in. You stumble into your bedroom and fall face-first onto your pillow. Seconds later, Ryan sees your chest rise and fall with sleep. He rolls you onto your back and lies down next to you, draping an arm over your waist. Despite his better judgment, he doesn't think about any way to leave quietly.

He's always needed you. For once, you need him.

The next day, Gavin spots you mouthing "I love you" to Ryan when you both think everyone's preoccupied. He hands Ray $200 beneath the table while you're all in a pre-heist planning meeting. Geoff notices and pumps his fist when no one's looking. Jack notices Geoff's excitement and silently chides him. Michael snorts.

"You alright, Jones?" you ask.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he lies, but you're not inclined to ask why. You can probably guess. And with a glance at Ryan, you know that everyone's on board.

 


End file.
